


Who Ya Gonna Call?

by lorenzobane



Category: Shadowhunters
Genre: BAMF Magnus Bane, Cursed objects, Daddy Issues, Downworlder Politics, I LOVE HIM A LOT, Jocelyn's death (mentioned), Kidnapping, M/M, Magnus POV, Magnus is the best, Most helpful, Valentine Morgenstern (mentioned) - Freeform, Yin Fen Addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:18:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9826160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorenzobane/pseuds/lorenzobane
Summary: “You have to—““Help you?” Magnus filled in dryly.Or: The Six Times Magnus helped someone, and the one time they try to help him





	

**1.) Simon Lewis**

 

“Magnus!”

 

Magnus sighed and put down his copy of _Journal of Modern Magick_. He was right in the middle of an enlightening piece on the benefits of Werewolf fangs, and he was quite looking forward to getting back to it.

 

Still, the Fledgling was a mess and avoiding him could only lead to bigger problems for Magnus to solve down the line. In all of his recent dealings with the Shadowhunters and their various hangers-on, he had come to learn exactly one thing. He would need to be proactive if he didn’t want these foolish children to sell their uteruses accidentally. Frankly, the amount of parenting these youths need is alarming.

 

“Yes, Simon?” Magnus says as he finally makes it to the door.

 

“You have to—“

 

“Help you?” Magnus filled in dryly.

 

“I made a mistake,” Simon said nervously. His hands were twisting at vampire pace, making his twiddling thumbs look like amusing blurs.

 

“Yes?”

 

“I stole blood,” he blurted out.

 

“What?”

 

“I was so, so hungry,” Simon whispered, “and Raphael wasn’t answering the phone—“

 

“Why didn’t you call me then?” Magnus asked.

 

“I was… I don’t know; I wasn’t thinking clearly. Anyway, I broke into the hospital, obviously going at Vampire speed. And stole a whole bunch of O-Neg.”

 

“And?”

 

“The Clave found out,” Simon rushed out. “The Clave found out and Aldertree has been on my ass about getting information from the “inside” about Raphael and he’s going to blackmail me and I’m going to be screwed and they’re going to throw me in Downworld jail for like a thousand years because I can freaking live that long now and I’ll never see Clary again or my mom—“

 

“Calm down, Simon,” Magnus said. Admittedly this was not an ideal situation, but if there was one thing Magnus was good at, it was manipulating the Clave. “Don’t worry, and don’t panic. I’ll take care of everything.”

 

“How?” Simon asked.

 

Magnus opened his mouth to snap at the boy, but he looked at Magnus with these huge, sad brown eyes and he softened. Baby Downworlders have always been a unique weakness of his, and Magnus remembers when he was young he broke a Clave law and thought his life was over too. It was lucky that he had already met Ragnor at that point, who managed to smooth the whole thing over with minimal fuss.

 

Instead, Magnus decided to say, “worry not, Fledgling. I’m an old man with ears everywhere. Aldertree thinks he can blackmail you? Well… I’m sure he won’t believe that once he finds out just how much I can blackmail the Clave if I choose to. And if that doesn’t work, I’m chair of the New York Warlock Commission and the North American Warlock Council. Unless he wants the New York Institute to become _persona non grata_ for all local Warlocks… I doubt he’ll push too hard.”

 

Simon’s jaw dropped and, seemingly without thinking, he wrapped his cold body around Magnus in a tight (too tight) hug that choked the air out of Magnus’s lungs.

 

“Let,” Magnus choked out, “me go.”

 

“Right!” Simon said, pulling back suddenly, “sorry. Oh man, you have no idea how great this is. I thought my life was over.”

 

“Technically, your life is already over,” Magnus pointed out mildly.

 

Simon glared at him, but when Magnus raised a single eyebrow, he dropped his gaze to Magnus’s bare feet.

 

“Well… I’m going to go now,” Simon said instead.

 

Magnus sighed internally. Of course, the Fledgling would forget to thank him. Why would he? He’s Magnus Bane, doomed to be a Downworlder Troubleshooter for eternity.

 

“Next time, Simon,” Magnus said instead of pushing the issue, “just call me if you are hungry with no blood. I always have some here.”

 

Simon smiled softly and nodded, “I’ll keep that in mind. Catch you later, man.”

 

“Don’t call me “man”!” Magnus called, but Simon was already halfway out the door. Damn Vampire speed.

 

**2.) Clarissa Fray/Fairchild**

 

He had five missed calls by the time he finally got around to checking his phone. All of them from a Ms. Fairchild. Or, perhaps, a Ms. Fray. Magnus finds himself inexplicably missing simpler times when, at the very least, Shadowhunters could be trusted to know their last name.

 

“Magnus!” Biscuit answers. She sounds irritated, “where have you been?”

 

“Norway,” Magnus responds.

 

“Why were you in—? You know what, it doesn’t matter,” she says.

 

Magnus just barely manages to choke down the snarky, “of course it doesn’t” that longs to slip from his lips.

 

“So, why did you call? And so many times in such short succession, too.”

 

“You need to help us,” she says briskly.

 

“With?” Magnus asks idly while checking his nails.

 

“We found this text thingie when we found Valentine’s abandoned lair half an hour ago.”

 

“And?”

 

“Well,” Clarissa huffs like Magnus is mentally feeble, “we need you to translate it.”

 

“Now?”

 

“What is more important than destroying Valentine?” She asks, and then continues before he has a chance to respond, “meet us at the Institute in an hour.”

 

Magnus looks at his bed with a degree of melancholy. It has been a brutal day, and he is exhausted. Still, unfortunately, Clary had already hung up. And lord knows that if he doesn’t go and help she’ll just ask someone else. To be frank, who knows what else she might sell to a rogue Warlock? Perhaps a kidney this time.

 

He takes a cab to the Institute and enjoys the look of surprise on the driver’s face when he tips him a crisp hundred dollar bill.

 

“Now,” Magnus said walking in, “what can I do for you that apparently couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

 

“Hey, Magnus,” Alexander said instead of responding.

 

“Darling,” he replies pressing a kiss on the taller man’s cheek. At least there is a silver lining somewhere in this fool’s errand.

 

Alec smiled at him. It’s funny how, even after the last few weeks, seeing a man with a rune smile at him still caused a weird feeling of cognitive dissonance in Magnus’s brain.

 

“Look at this,” Clary said pointing to the table where a wooden slab was resting.

 

Magnus took one look and raised both his eyebrows in alarm. Other than that, his face was completely placid.

 

“Please tell me none of you touched it,” Magnus requested, though knowing these foolhardy Shadowhunters the likelihood that they showed restraint was minimal.

 

“Why?” Clary asked in alarm.

 

Magnus rolled his eyes in his head, “who touched it?”

 

“Just me,” she responded nervously.

 

“That “slab” as you so elegantly put it, is cursed. You’re lucky I got here as soon as I did,” Magnus commented as he summoned his potions bag from his penthouse.

 

“Cursed?” Isabelle and Jace said in alarmed unison.

 

“Yes,” Magnus said letting his magic do a scan of the wooden slab, “quite a nasty one too. In a few minutes, you will probably feel an agonizing pain in your left abdomen. I think this curse is eventually meant to… Ah yes! It’s supposed to reverse your body, so your skin and organs switch places.”

 

“Oh my god,” Clary said in horror. “Oh my god. Am I going to die?”

 

Magnus leveled her with a bland look and poured three more ingredients into his travel cauldron. “Of course not,  Biscuit. Do you think I would let that happen to you?”

 

She was about to shake her head when she collapsed on the floor screaming.

 

“Do something!” Isabelle demanded.

 

Magnus ignored her. In his periphery, he felt Alec breathing on his neck, but he ignored that too. If his calculations are correct, and they always are, he would have fifteen minutes to save her life. The potion he was brewing needs ten minutes.

 

“Get her to the infirmary,” Magnus said distantly, “I’ll be there in a moment.”

 

He thinks he hears Jace picking her up, and he blocks out her anguished cries of pain. It reminds him of the time he spent in hospitals during the American Civil War. The cries of men as legs were amputated willy nilly.

 

His hands were moving on their own accord, and before he knew it, he was adding the last ingredient.

 

“Alec,” Magnus said briskly.

 

Alec was at his side in a moment, “what?”

 

“Get this to Biscuit. Now.”

 

Alec nodded, activated his speed rune, and began sprinting down the hall. Once he was out of sight, Magnus leaned heavily against the glass table he had been working on.

 

“Warlock,” Aldertree said, seemingly appearing from nowhere, “did you finish your potion?”

 

Magnus was too tired to snark, so he merely nodded, pushed himself off the table and raised a single superior eyebrow. No matter how tired he is, he’ll never allow the weakness to show on his face.

 

“Good,” he said ambivalently, “if your job is done, then it is time for you to go. Downworlders are still banned from the Institute.”

 

Magnus considers making a fuss, just to watch Aldertree try and deal with Magnus Bane, Downworld leader, and powerful warlock.

 

But, as it stands, he’s exhausted. The work in Norway, two international portals and the sudden, powerful potion he had been forced to brew on the fly had taken a lot out of him. Though he’s loath to admit it, he would really like to leave right now.

 

“I’ll be sending you my bill, Vicky,” Magnus says finally.

 

Anything the other man was going to say is cut off by the fact that Magnus is already walking towards the door and ordering an Uber while he does.

 

He has every intention of sleeping for at least a decade.

  
  
  


**3.) Jace Wayland**

 

Watching Jace fuck his way through his problems was like looking in a highly unflattering mirror. Woman after woman pouring into the apartment and leaving at various hours of the morning was fine. Lord knows, up until very recently that was his life too. Still, he couldn’t help but be irritated at the random strangers entering his home, and drinking his orange juice.

 

What was even more annoying was when these women realized it was Magnus Bane’s house. Then it was an entirely new ballgame. They tried to seduce him as he drinks his morning coffee, or ask him to tell them stories, or ask if they can go down on him.

 

Magnus is reminded why being such a prominent member of society comes with lots of baggage.

 

What is amusing, however, is when Alexander is around for these various flirtation attempts. He especially likes the new found string of possessive hickeys that cover his neck when his lover isn’t around to scare these women away in person.

 

Less amusing is finding Jace, for the fifth time in ten days, passed out on the couch, his hand still curled around the neck of a bottle of Jack Daniels.

 

Magnus sighed and rubbed his head to stave off a headache. He had been avoiding talking to Jace for a lot of reasons, the very least of which was the confrontation with what a little shit he had been centuries ago. But there is only so much of this that he can watch before his natural tendency to fix problems and protect people prompted him into action.

 

“Wake up,” Magnus said.

 

“Ugh- leave me alone.”

 

“If you wanted that, you should have passed out in your room. But, as it stands, your cry for attention has finally caught my attention. Let’s talk.”

 

Jace opened his brown eye at him and looked thoroughly miserable. Taking pity on him just this once, Magnus waved his hand and his hangover disappeared, and a full continental breakfast appeared in front of both of them.

 

“Wow, dude,” Jace said reaching for a bagel, “that’s amazing. Why didn’t you do that before?”

 

“Because I don’t usually encourage buffoonery in my home.”

 

Jace scoffed but continued to cover his bagel in schmeer. “What do you want to talk about?”

 

“Your desire to fuck away your problems? The increasingly unfortunate stains on my living room couch? Or, perhaps, your self-hatred because of your demon blood. Oh! And if we have time, let’s see if we can cover incest, too.”

 

“You’re such an asshole,” Jace replied his face full of food.

 

“Takes one to know one, to borrow a modern idiom.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Jace said after swallowing, “I don’t want to talk about any of that shit.”

 

“Oh, you’re right,” Magnus said sarcastically, “why discuss your downward spiral when you can destroy my living room instead?”

 

Jace said nothing but he looked away. Magnus considered his tactics. Initially, he thought Jace the type to appreciate tough, snarky, love. However, maybe he would be better suited to some tender honesty.

 

“You know,” Magnus said changing gears, “I also have demon blood.”

 

Jace looked up at him sharply but didn’t respond.

 

“For the first several centuries of my life I thought my attraction to men came from my demonic heritage,” Magnus continued casually.

 

Jace choked, “what?”

 

“It was hundreds of years ago, and I had been taught that it was a sin,” Magnus pointed out placidly. “So, I assumed that my human half was attracted to women, and the demon blood in me was attracted sinfully to men.”

 

“That’s… That’s insane.”

 

“Is it?” Magnus asked idly, “is it more insane than thinking demonic blood is making you incestuous?”

 

“I— You don’t understand. You don’t have a father like mine.”

 

Magnus forces his face smooth, trying not to think about his demonic father- a Prince of Hell. “And what is your dad like?”

 

“He… I think he loves me,” Jace says finally. The words are whispered. “I think… I think… I think I love him too.”

 

“Listen, Jace,” Magnus murmured, placing a hand on Jace’s shoulder. “Take it from someone with an equally terrible father, family is what you make, and father figures are vastly overrated. But numbing the pain? That doesn’t make the pain disappear. It will never turn him into a fake memory. Do you think you’re better than Valentine?”

 

Jace looked at him, his eyes filled with fire, “of course!”

 

“Then prove it,” Magnus said. “Prove it, and remember that battles are not fought alone. But first and foremost, let me tell you this- demonic blood doesn’t make you a demon. It doesn’t make you evil. Unless you also think that I am an evil, mindless demon too. Do you?”

 

Jace looked at him, “of course not! But you’re… You’re different!”

 

“Different than who?”

 

Jace got quiet for a moment. “The reason I left the Institute is because Aldertree blackmailed me. Not because I was demoted.”

 

“What does he have on you?”

 

“I admitted that I couldn’t follow The Clave blindly… It made me look disloyal.”

 

Magnus nodded. “I see, that explains why you left.”

 

“Super,” Jace said sarcastically, “now if you don’t mind— I’ve got a whole lot of nothing to do.”

 

“Want a job?”

 

For once, Magnus’s mouth was moving faster than his brain. But as soon as he said it, he was struck by how right he was. Jace needs to be doing something, he needs to be helping, but he’s not a Shadowhunter anymore.

 

The light in Jace’s eye told him everything he needed to know. Jace is the type of man who needs a purpose. So, Magnus would give him one.

 

“What type of job?”

 

“Pandemonium needs a temporary bouncer, and I think you just might have enough training to do the job.”

 

Jace rolled his eyes, “well fine. If you need the help, I guess I could do you a solid.”

 

“Thank you,” Magnus replied magnanimously before standing up elegantly. “Now, I’m off to meet a client. Please do take a shower; my bouncers are always held to the highest standards.”

 

Watching Jace square his shoulders in determination, focused entirely on the job in front of him…

 

Well, that was icing on the cake.

 

**4.) Isabelle Lightwood**

 

Alexander is crying. Sobbing, actually, curled tightly around Magnus with his head buried firmly in his shoulder.

 

Magnus doesn’t comment that he’s wearing a five hundred dollar Valentino shirt. Mostly because, at this very moment, he doesn’t care.

 

“What are we going to do?” Alec stutters out. “I can’t— I can’t— I can’t live without her. What if—?”

 

Magnus hushes him softly, petting his thick black locks. “I’ll fix this.”

 

“How?” Alec asks. “I— I— She’s so…”

 

 _Strung out,_ Magnus finishes in his head but doesn’t say out loud. He pet’s Alec’s face gently again, this time lacing a small amount of magic in his fingers. Slowly, he feels Alec’s body sag, falling asleep in a heavyweight against him.

 

Smiling softly at the way Alec still clung to him in his sleep, his massive fist curled into Magnus’s shirt, he gently lifts him up and takes him to the master bedroom to get some rest.

 

Magnus has some problems to solve.

 

Isabelle Lightwood. In all honesty, if asked which Lightwood he thought he was more likely to fall for, he would have said, Isabelle. Aggressive in her defense of Downworlder rights, quick in her quips and ten times smarter than anyone around her, she is a sight to see. A woman just barely contained by her flawless skin.

 

She doesn’t look like that now. She’s covered in sweat, head to toe. Her usually perfect black waves are a matted mess. She’s been crying and, possibly for the first time that Magnus has ever seen, her lips are bare.

 

“Magnus,” her voice is weak, “please. Please, I need it. I need it. You don’t understand. I feel—”

 

Magnus comes close to her and runs his fingers through her sweaty, flat hair. He doesn’t flinch back. People sometimes forget that he lived in Europe when it was common only to bathe once a year.

 

“I know,” Magnus said, “yin fen is… terrible.”

 

“I need it,” she says, as if she can’t hear him.

 

“I know,” Magnus said. He closes his eyes to block out the painful memory of Jem. Another bright soul ripped apart by something they couldn’t hope to control.

 

Luckily for her, however, Magnus has always had an obsessive personality. So, after Jem’s terrible experience he spent decades, hell, he spent the better half of centuries, trying to cure this. Trying to figure out a way to help others in the future. Potion after potion, spell after spell, he worked and published and researched and tested.

 

And at this moment, looking down at his boyfriend’s sister, he knows all those hours were worth it.

 

No, he hasn’t ever been able to cure it. He has, however, managed to speed up the process significantly. The spell and potion were volatile and complex. They required a deft hand, incredible power, and precision- all skills that Magnus had in spades.  

 

What he had created was a spell-potion combination that collapsed the terrible 20-year withdrawal, into a terrible two-day recovery.

 

In the quiet of the night, alone in this room with a hysterical Isabelle, he began the process and hardened his heart. By collapsing the process into two days, recovery became hellish. Magnus always felt, and still feels, that it’s better to rip off the bandaid.

 

He conjures a small trashcan, and begins the spell, and eventually forces the potion down her throat.

 

The days are, as advertised, horrifying. Even worse, was Alec insisting on staying with her the entire time as she recovered in Magnus’s guest bedroom. She vomited for hours, cried for even more, and began ranting after half a day. Shrieking about how none of them had ever loved her, how they hadn’t noticed her falling apart, how none of them had even cared that she was suffering.

 

Magnus knew these claims would hit Alec hard. Especially because, they were in part true. None of them had noticed. They allowed her to suffer because they had been wrapped up in their problems and their lives.

 

Then, after two days, the fever broke.

 

“Fuck,” she said, waking Magnus from where he was sleeping on a chair by her bed. “Fuck, can I get some water?”

 

Magnus handed it to her with curiosity. This was the first time he had ever actually used this spell and potion combination, so he was really hoping for the best.

 

“How do you feel?”

 

“Like I’m recovering from a Yin Fen addiction,” she said, her lips curled into a dry smile. “Anyway, you guys should be feeding me electrolytes- I lost a lot of salt minerals, and I swear I can feel my sodium-potassium pump falling way out of wack.”

 

Magnus beamed, relieved that his spell worked and said, “oh my darling. It is so good to have you back.”

 

Her eyes dimmed, “I… By the Angel. How is anyone going to forgive me for this?”

 

“Isabelle,” Magnus said reaching for her hand. “Addiction is not your fault. You didn’t know what it was when Aldertree, your boss, a person you thought you could trust, gave it to you. Addiction is messy, it’s painful, and it can rip you apart. But if you have ever listened to me about anything, please listen to me now. Addiction is a disease and is no more your fault than any other. We still love you.”

 

She clutched him and cried, “I… I didn’t mean for this to get so out of hand. By the time I even noticed…”

 

“Shh,” Magnus said petting her hair, “Shh, darling. It’s okay. We’re all still here. You’ve never been abandoned. I just ask, next time, please come to me. I’ll never judge you.”

 

She looked up at him with exhausted brown eyes that are filled with tears, “where’s Alec?”

 

“I told him to get some rest. He’s in my room, would you like me to get him?”

 

She nodded, and Magnus wandered over to his bedroom to gently shake Alec awake.

 

“Is she…?” Alec asked as soon as he woke up. His voice was trembling with hope and despair.

 

Magnus grinned and nodded, “she wants to see you. She’s feeling better.”

 

Alec flung himself out of bed and raced to Isabelle’s room. Without hesitation, he leaned down  and clutched her in a hard hug.

 

“I missed you so much, Izzy,” Alec said. Magnus watched as Isabelle gripped his arms and hugged him back just as hard.

 

Smiling to himself, he decided that it was time to take his leave. After all, he was sure these two had a great deal to discuss.

  
  


**5.) Luke Garroway**

 

Magnus was not happy to hear his phone ring, and if Alec’s disgruntled noise was anything to go by, he wasn’t wild about it either.

 

He carefully detangled himself from the archer’s strong arms and slipped on a robe while hitting “accept” on the phone call.

 

“What?” Magnus asked, not bothering with pleasantries.

 

“Magnus,” Luke Garroway’s voice answered, “Magnus… I need you.”

 

“What have I said about late night booty-calls, Luke?”

 

“Hilarious,” Luke said dryly, “please. There is something wrong, my pack… I don’t know what is going on with them. I need help, please. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t dire.”

 

Magnus sighed and began putting on a pair of jeans and a fairly average T-shirt. It is four in the morning if they want a style icon they can ask someone else. “I’ll be there in five.”

 

“Where y'going?” Alec mumbles half asleep.

 

“Work call,” Magnus replies, pressing a soft kiss to Alec’s temple.

 

“Hmm,” Alec says and goes back to sleep. Magnus smiles ruefully and supposes that Alec is used to him disappearing in the middle of the night.

 

Magnus created a portal straight to the Jade Wolf to see Werewolves of all shapes and sizes curled up in pain on the ground. His breath caught when he saw Maia, her beautiful wolf form whimpering.

 

“Luke! What the hell happened?”

 

Luke was standing there in his human, unshifted form. His eyes were surrounded by dark circles and his mouth was pulled into a tight frown. He looked like he hadn’t been sleeping much for at least the last week. “I have no idea. I was on my way back from the precinct… And then Clary called me, she hasn’t been able to sleep since… Well. Anyway, by the time I came back they were already like this.”

 

“Of course, old friend. I had no idea it was this bad… Any idea when it started?”

 

“Maia’s managed to choke out some information,” Luke said grimly. “It was hard for her to speak, but she still managed to tell me some stuff. Kid’s remarkable.”

 

“And?”

 

“About ten minutes before I came, so it’s been going on for about forty minutes.”

 

Magnus let out a low whistle and raised his left hand to scan the wolf closest to him.

 

“It’s some type of psychic energy,” Magnus commented, concentrating hard. “Unusual psychic energy.”

 

“Valentine?”

 

“Maybe?” Magnus said. “It feels like Warlock magic, but uncontrolled.”

 

Luke looked up at him sharply, “you think there is a rogue Warlock causing this?”

 

“Unclear. I’m going to need to do some investigating. But,” Magnus said raising his right hand to meet his left, “let me disrupt the connection, give your pack a break.”

 

He pulsed out two electric blue bursts of energy which is more than robust enough to interrupt the psychic energy, while Magnus figures out what is going on. The effect is instantaneous. The Wolves drop to the floor like marionettes with their strings cut. They also all slowly begin shrinking down to human size, whimpering in the aftershocks of pain.

 

“Let me come with you,” Luke said, resting a friendly hand on Magnus’s bicep.

 

Magnus nodded and slowly walked out. He was releasing continuous, small bursts of energy down the dock. Magnus was using his magic a bit like a sonar, sending waves of magic out and, if it hit an alternate magical pattern, would come back at a different rate than the rest of the magic.

 

“Jesus, Magnus,” Luke said as they were walking. “I… These last few months have been insane. It feels like we just can’t catch a break.”

 

Magnus made a humming noise of agreement, his mind still mostly focused on his task.

 

“I guess when it rains, it pours,” Luke commented with a heavy sigh. Magnus risked a look back to see Luke rubbing his left ring finger absentmindedly, and Magnus felt like he had been kicked in the gut.

 

He stopped and turned around. “Luke, are you okay?”

 

Luke looked heartbroken, “I just… I never thought I would have to do this alone.”

 

“What?”

 

“Ugh, never mind. I think I’m just exhausted. I’m sorry.”

 

Magnus looked at him and raised one eyebrow, silently asking him to continue.

 

“Everything,” Luke said eventually. “I never thought I would have to raise Clary alone. I never thought I would be in the Shadow world alone. I… We were going to get married. I thought I would never have to be alone again. I don’t know how to live without Jocelyn.” He’s quiet for a moment, then continues softer this time, “Second time a soulmate has left me.”

 

Magnus softened. Loss is never easy. What strikes Magnus is that grief always comes as a surprise, no matter how many times it happens. Your heart never becomes used to that sudden feeling, like a phantom limb- your mind keeps reaching out to something that is no longer there. To marry that loss to betrayal… Luke Garroway has suffered gravely, indeed.

 

“Life can be peculiar and unfair,” Magnus decides to say after a beat. “But time is a fickle thing. As you are here with me, you are also there- wrapped in her arms. The past exists, Luke. As visceral as the present, as ephemeral as the future. There are versions of yourself, both yesterday and tomorrow, that are incandescently happy and heartbroken. You exist on both planes at once.”

 

Luke gave him an unimpressed look, “helpful.”

 

“My point is,” Magnus said, “you’ll never actually lose her because she’ll always exist in your heart and your head. You will also… You’ll also never actually lose him,” Magnus didn’t clarify who he was talking about and he didn’t need to if the way Luke tensed up was any indication. Valentine Morgenstern would always be a sore subject. Still, Magnus continued, “The happy memories of you two together… They are a part of history as well. Don’t block them out to make yourself hard. He betrayed you, and he loved you. He killed her, and he loved her. Those thoughts are all on the same plane of existence."

 

Magnus thinks of the first love he ever lost, centuries and centuries ago. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget her. The one person he had ever loved when he was still young- when they were still the same age. He had been seventy when she was seventy- yet he had been forced to watch her wither away. Magnus was with her for her for fifty-five years; for her whole life. She was there for much less than ten percent of his. He was two months younger than she had been, actually. A strange detail to stick with you, after so many centuries.

 

Some days he still wakes up and mourns her.

 

Luke was silent before he burst forward, “I just… I just wish this would all stop. I just want a break, is that so wrong? I want to go to bed and wake up happy. I can’t do this anymore.”

 

“Give it time, Luke. Eventually, you’ll wake up one day in your bed, and you’ll wake up happy. That future is as real as this pain is now.”

 

“And how do you know?” Luke asks.

 

Magnus smirked back and winked, “I know everything.”

 

He refocuses on his task and hits a small figure. He approaches it cautiously when he notices—

 

“It’s a kid,” Luke says surprised.

 

Magnus smiles softly to himself. It’s a small Warlock child, with pointy pink ears and no mouth. That must be where the high-level psychic energy was coming from.

 

“Hey there. I’m Magnus Bane,” Magnus coos while dropping his glamor. The cat eyes reassure them immediately, and their eyes light up. They raise their hand to meet Magnus’s, so he copies the gesture- curious.

 

“My name is Thobeka. I got lost,” a voice said in his head. Magnus gasped.

 

“What is it?” Luke asks.

 

“She’s communicating with me,” Magnus replies. “It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

 

“Where are your parents?”

 

She sends him an image of her parents. A Vampire woman and her Warlock wife. They were at dinner earlier that evening when she got separated from them and accidentally wandered to the docks.

 

Magnus could have cried with relief when he recognized the warlock, Amanda Slate.

 

“I’ll get her home to her parents,” Magnus says, before quickly letting the child know that he’s calling his mom.

 

Luke nods, emotionally exhausted, “I gotta go check on the pack.”

 

Magnus nodded and opened his mouth to reply when Amanda picks up the phone.

 

“Amanda! You’ll never guess who I found—“

 

He hears her burst into tears over the phone, and he quickly makes a portal to her apartment in Queens. Luke was already gone when he hung up the phone call.  

 

It’s six in the morning by the time he finally can stumble back home. Alexander is luckily still asleep in bed, and Magnus doesn’t even bother to change. Electing instead to collapse face first into the mattress.

 

“Finally,” Alec murmured, before curling around him like he’d never left. “The bed was getting cold.”

 

Magnus smiled, tucking his head into Alec’s shoulder. He was ready to take a nice long nap.

  


**6.) Alexander Lightwood**

 

“Baby?”

 

“Yes, Alexander?”

 

He was currently editing his paper entitled _The Hippocampus and Vampire Hair: A Longitudinal Study on Increasing Memory Capacity_ when Alec called. He quickly shoved his phone between his shoulder and his ear to keep typing as he spoke.

 

“I need your help.”

 

“With?” Magnus said absently, trying to repress the urge to sigh heavily.

 

“I’m in that old warehouse, you know the one, and well… I might have slightly overestimated how many demons I can kill on my own, so now I’m hiding in the air duct waiting for backup.”

 

“And I’m back up?”

 

“You’re backup,” Alec confirmed.

 

“Where is that parabatai of yours?”

 

“Working as a bouncer at my boyfriend’s shitty club.”

 

“Oye,” Magnus said, “watch whose club you call shitty.”

 

“Now, can you come?”

 

“I guess,” Magnus replies. “I’ll have you know I’m making some very critical edits.”

 

“We both already know you comma splice like it’s your job. Deal with it later.”

 

“I remember when I thought you were quiet,” Magnus comments with a hint of playful wistfulness in his tone.

 

“I remember when I thought you were wise,” Alec banters back in a similar tone of voice. “Now, come help me.”

 

And with that Alec hung up and Magnus glared at the phone. When did society collectively decide proper greetings and goodbyes were superfluous?

 

Magnus got up and stretched before drawing up a portal. Both Magnus and Alec know exactly which warehouse Alec had been talking about because this place is a running joke. For some reason, whenever there was a hive of demons, they always went to this warehouse.

 

He portaled quietly to the back entrance and texted Alec to let him know that he’d arrived. He expected his boyfriend to text him back a plan, but apparently, such banal ideas as “planning” and “strategy” were not for Alec Lightwood.

 

He sees a fiery arrow shoot through the din of clamoring demons, and with absent horror, he watched as the arrow turned out to be a small bomb destroying three of the thirty demons and completely gave away Alec’s hiding spot.

 

Magnus is forcibly reminded that Alec’s idea of a “strategy” to find Jace was essentially to sail around until he ran into Valentine’s cruise liner.

 

Cracking his knuckles, he moved into the warehouse with both hands lit up red.

 

“Nice of you to join me,” Alec said with a smirk, as he did a backflip off a rafter.

 

“You’ve been spending too much time hunting alone. Witty banter on your own just isn’t the same, is it?”

 

Magnus solidified a blade of magic and cut through the necks of five demons at once. He sees Alec shoot him an impressed look and Magnus grins back, dropping his glamor.

 

They work with deadly efficiency, and Magnus can admit he’s glad he came. Looking over his academic work gets a bit dry after a while, and he’s always preferred cardio.

 

“You know,” Magnus said after destroying another two demons by changing his magic’s shape into a cartoon anvil and allowing it to drop on them, “I am a businessman.”

 

“Yes,” Alec says suspiciously.

 

“And a politician,” Magnus continues.

 

“Yes?”

 

“And, as I’m sure many would tell you, a bit of a lush.”

 

“Get to the point, Magnus.”

 

“I think I’m killing more demons than my Shadowhunter boyfriend. Tragic.”

 

Alec just stabbed a demon clean through the stomach, and it exploded into ichor. When he was done, he shot Magnus an irritated look.

 

“You’re cheating.”

 

“How is magic cheating?”

 

“Well, I don’t have magic.”

 

“I don’t have runes,” Magnus countered. “Or centuries of inbred sanctimonious egotism.”

 

Alec makes a choked coughing sound like he’s repressing laughter.

 

“My point is,” Magnus continues undeterred, “I think I’m exquisite at your job.”

 

Alec rolls his eyes, “Hm, you’re right. Maybe you should take over.”

 

“And what will you do?”

 

“Stay at home, do yoga and cook.”

 

“Why yoga?”

 

Alec smirked, did a flip over a small horde of four demons and shooting one arrow through all of them, before winking at Magnus. “Flexibility.”

 

Magnus shook his head and wrapped a red twist of magic around another demon’s neck, before snapping it sharply.

 

“I think that’s all of them,” Alec said turning to Magnus. They both didn’t notice a demon sneaking up behind Alec until it was too late, and it stabbed him through the shoulder. Magnus was on it in an instant, blasting it to hell in seconds.

 

He rushed to Alec’s side.

 

“God damn it,” Magnus muttered pouring blue healing magic into Alec’s wound. “Can you Shadowhunters go one day without injuring yourself?”

 

The blood seeping out of Alec’s shoulder slowed to a trickle and Magnus was able to reattach most of the tissue.

 

As soon as he was healed, Alec twisted his shoulder around to ensure mobility in his arm.

 

“Nice,” Alec said getting up. “Want to grab Korean?”

 

“Alec!” Magnus said with irritation, “you can’t take crazy risks like that. You should be more concerned, if I hadn’t been there, you would have died.”

 

“Relax, Magnus,” Alec said with an easy smile. “You would have come to heal me; I’m not worried.”

 

Magnus wants to snap that he isn’t a nursemaid they can expect to call and heal all their ails any time they need it. Just as he’s opening his mouth, Alec is shoving Magnus against a wall- his mouth passionately distracting Magnus.

 

And later, as he runs his fingers over the scar as Alec is sleeping, he wonders if that is even a point worth making.

  


**+1.) And the one time they try and help him**

 

When Magnus woke up he had a blinding headache, which is funny because he doesn’t remember drinking more than he usually did last night. It takes him several more minutes to notice that his hands are tightly bound above his head in shackles.

 

“What…?”

 

“Look who’s awake,” a voice called.

 

Magnus rolled his eyes. He had been kidnapped many times in his last several centuries, but it never got more fun.

 

“Can I help you?” Magnus asked politely.

 

A woman slid down what appeared to be a long fire pole in the middle of the room. Magnus spared a moment of thought, considering why on earth this evil lair had such bizarre decor before the woman began speaking.

 

“Magnus Bane,” she said coyly. “You’re much more handsome than I thought you’d be.”  

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yes, I mean, I heard you were well over four hundred years old. I pictured crows feet.”

 

“I moisturize,” Magnus replied, ignoring the strangeness of disclosing his skin care routine to his kidnapper.

 

“Do you know who I am?”

 

“No,” Magnus said, “but I do know you have some lovely battle accoutrements. As delightful as this little tete a tete has been, darling, I really must be going. Mind releasing me?”

 

“Oh,” she simpered, “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

 

“And why not?”

 

“Because I need you to do me a very big favor.”

 

Magnus raised a single unimpressed eyebrow. He tugged on the shackles again and felt them digging in harshly to cut off his magic supply. Magnus wasn’t terribly concerned, an old friend of his, Harry Houdini, taught him the art of escaping shackles. Granted, he had been a bit drunk when he learned- but Magnus had always believed that skills learned when intoxicated were the finest skills to learn.

 

“And what might this favor be, beautiful?” Magnus asked, dropping his voice slightly so it sounds even deeper and richer than it normally does.

 

Some people might advise against flirting with a kidnapper, but Magnus can’t count how many times a little bit of seduction was all it took for a clean escape.

 

She predictably blushed, “oh, you. Such flattery, really do have a devilish tongue- don’t you?”

 

“I’ve been called quite the cunning linguist in my time.”

 

She giggled again, before suddenly setting her face seriously. The emotional whiplash surprised Magnus.

 

“I need you to summon your father,” she said. She wasn’t giggling anymore, and her tone turned ice cold.

 

“I’m afraid I can’t.”

 

“Oh? I think you’ll find that you can.”

 

“Sorry, darling. What do you need him for, anyway?”

 

She smiled madly at him, and for the first time, Magnus realized this woman was actually deranged. “I want to have his child. I want to bear the son of a Prince of Hell.”

 

“Or daughter,” Magnus corrected absently, trying to mask his horror.

 

“Or daughter,” she acknowledged. “Anyway, I’m going to leave you here for a few minutes. Don’t get too lonely! I’ll be back before you know it. Just gotta draw a pretty pentagram.”

 

Magnus forced a charming smile, “oh, with such a lovely lady, where else could I dream to be?”

 

She giggled and left the room. Magnus sighed with relief and immediately started working on escaping the cuffs. It was a painful, but effective trick. By forcibly dislocating his own shoulder, he would be able to shimmy out of the restraints with relative ease. The pain of popping it back into place was distasteful, but Magnus ignores that thought for now.

 

He took a deep breath and bared down hard, and with sudden force- shifting the angle so his left shoulder would pop out of it’s socket. The pain was intense and sudden, but Magnus focused on breathing through it. Any scream would alert that woman to his escape attempt.

 

With his shoulder dislocated, he has more room to work with- and is able to shimmy his hand out slowly. He winced as his arm hung limply to his side, but he didn’t have time to deal with that right now. Magnus snapped his left hand, even that small movement was agony, but the shackle on his right hand flew open immediately.

 

Carefully grabbing his left arm with his right hand, he rammed his shoulder back into it’s socket. For a moment, all he felt was blinding pain, and blood running down his chin from where he bit down so hard he broke the skin of his lip.

 

Still, no sound escaped him.

 

Now relatively put together, and with all joints properly connected, Magnus dusted off his jacket and smoothed down a cowlick in his hair.

 

Magnus moved swiftly out of the building, noticing the long, empty corridors lined with linoleum. He was just turning the corner when he was suddenly face to face with a large bow and arrow.

 

“Ah!” Magnus called in surprise.

 

“Magnus?”

 

It was Alec. But also, Luke, Clary, Isabelle, Jace and Simon. They certainly made an odd group, marching determinedly.

 

“What are you doing here?” Magnus asked in surprise, while gently pushing Alec’s bow out of his face.

 

“We… You… Weren’t you kidnapped?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“And you’re not kidnapped any more.”

 

“I escaped,” Magnus replied helpfully. “You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing here?”

 

“We’re…” Clary cut in, sounding confused, “rescuing you?”

 

“Oh,” Magnus says at a loss for words. He is inexplicably touched.

 

“How did you know I was gone?”

 

“You weren’t answering your phone,” Simon said with a shrug. “And I needed some help with something, so I went to your place. Looks like someone broke in somehow, knocked you out. We saw the blood and… Well, we tracked you here.”

 

Magnus smiles, “that is very sweet my dear. Now, did any of you clever Shadowhunters bring any pain relief?”

 

Alec smiled like he’d won the lottery, and presented a potion from Magnus’s personal stock to him. Magnus was filled with the urge to pat him on the head and say ‘good boy’ but that probably wouldn’t go over well.

 

He ripped the cork out with his mouth and downed the potion quickly. “Thank you, now- we need to capture the woman who kidnapped me. She wants to summon... “ Magnus cut himself off. He wasn’t quite prepared to tell these people about his parentage just yet. “She wants to summon a greater demon to impregnate her.”

 

“You know what, Magnus?” Isabelle said, “why don’t you go home with Alec. We’ll take care of this.”

 

“Are you quite sure? You might need my help--”

 

“Magnus,” Luke huffed, “I think we can handle it. Let us take care of you, and let us take care of this. Just go home and sleep.”

 

Magnus opened his mouth and closed it, “thank you.”

 

Jace rolled his eyes, “don’t worry about it, man--”

 

“Don’t call me “man.”

 

“-- Angel knows we owe you. You’ve done a lot for us, I think we can handle taking down one person on our own.”

Magnus huffed out a laugh, walked over to Alec and leaned heavily into his arms. “Well, if you insist. I actually am quite exhausted- I think I will need a big, strong, man to accompany me home.”

 

Alec rolled his eyes but took Magnus’s weight without question. He turned to the group, “Magnus and I are heading home.”

 

“Sounds good,” Clary said. “We’ll take care of this.”

 

Magnus allowed himself to be gently lead out of the building, and he is reminded of just why he is so willing to help these fools in the first place.

 

**Author's Note:**

> As always thank you SO SO much to a perfect beta, @LadyMatt 
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment, I can not tell you how much they brighten my day :) 
> 
> If you want to scream with me about Magnus Bane, love of my life, come find me on Tumblr @MenckensChrestomethy


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